Readers are taken inside a fraught childhood, full of its little pleasures, familial pressures, fears, and censures. Readers should be mindful that the book contains descriptions of sexual abuse, with Brooks taking pains to capture the helplessness, and anger that such experiences trigger, while also going on to work through them: “What kind of mother lets a man inspect her daughter’s body that way?” she eventually shouts, a welcome burst of catharsis. The adult Brooks lives with a sense of foreboding: will she end up like her mother? She tries her best not to, but at times can’t help but feel she’s exhibiting traits she grew up around.
Fitting to its subject, this is no easy read, and the narrative can feel claustrophobic. But the author does a great job of taking readers into a difficult life, laying bare the people and traumas that made her who she is—and her sometimes frantic efforts to overcome it all. Still, she surveys her family’s “flawed humanity” with an empathetic eye but also a bracing, honest clarity. Healing and hope, here, are hard earned.
Takeaway: Devastating memoir of a mother’s many husbands and growing up unprotected.
Comparable Titles: Mary Manning’s Nobody will Believe You, Stephanie Foo’s What My Bones Know.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Madsen’s prose is unadorned and sensible, detailing a lifetime of dire situations that she meets head on—and seeks resolution for, instead of wallowing in the mire of self-pity. She is always on the move, literally and metaphorically, resulting in phenomenal growth, both in terms of acquiring worldly skills to afford creature comforts as well as personal and spiritual development. Her too-trusting nature often lands her in sticky situations, but she flits from those retellings to moments of triumph, never dwelling longer than necessary on the abuses and failures she experiences. Even her encounters with the occult, transformative learning with treasured mentors, and a terrifying cancer diagnosis receive the same level-headed treatment.
The memoir’s softer moments—Madsen’s joy at being a mother, her determination to ooze “love and compassion” at every turn—impart valuable lessons, namely her ability to pivot from failure to success, to constantly move forward, and to refuse to dwell in the past. Her regrets form the basis for new beginnings by the book’s end, as she lovingly reminds readers “Regardless of where we are, our past does not dictate our future. What we do today paves the future according to our thoughts, feelings, and actions.”
Takeaway: Candid memoir urging readers toward self-forgiveness and actualization.
Comparable Titles: Jessica Bacal’s Mistakes I Made at Work, Vanessa Springora’s Consent.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
At its heart, Transportaling is a sharp satire of contemporary American society. Milks draws biting parallels between Melenca and Earth, weaving in commentary on political polarization, health care, and immigration issues, all through the lens of Melencan politics, which is split between the opposing factions of Unifiers and Compactors. The slogans, such as “Restore Melenca to glory,” resonate with contemporary discussions on nationalism, while the novel also critiques post-truth propaganda techniques, where the distinction between fact and fiction is blurred to justify destructive mining operations. The environmental degradation in Melenca—manifested through cracks, sinkholes, and toxic gasses—serves as a clear allegory for the ongoing climate crisis in our own world. Complicating things are comic frictions between the outbounders themselves, some of whom see Melenca as ripe for business ventures of their own.
Milks excels at creating a richly textured world, with the culture and societal dynamics of Melenca unfolding organically through dialogue rather than dense exposition, keeping readers open to alt-world thought experiments engaged and curious. The fast-paced narrative is fueled by ever-present dangers, including a fanatical group (rightcakes) in pursuit of the protagonists. Sam’s personal journey of self-doubt—particularly his career and romantic struggles—grounds the novel in feeling. Milks has crafted a thought-provoking novel that invites readers to reflect on the state of their own world long after the final page.
Takeaway: Engaging blend of alt-reality adventure and incisive socio-political commentary.
Comparable Titles: Walter Moers; Connie Willis.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: B+
Illustrations: –
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: B-
Readers will want to start with Tuohy’s first book in the series, as the events coming into play here largely hinge on Sarah and Miranda’s earlier experiences. As the murders escalate, Sarah, Miranda, and their group of friends and family must band together, investigating clues while trying to nail down who’s responsible, all while traversing the nooks and crannies of Paris. Readers spend the most time with the free-spirited Sarah, whose obsession with all things Sarah Bernhardt pops up throughout her amateur sleuthing, but Miranda plays a close second. A feisty young girl with great intelligence but an equally demanding attitude, she is harder to connect with, though her eagerness to help solve the murders stalking her aunt is endearing.
What Tuohy does best is give readers a sense of roaming through Paris's museums, theaters, restaurants, and parks, where the book’s characters live, play, and, in some cases, die. As Sarah and Miranda meander through Parisian streets—hunting for Sarah Bernhardt’s grave in the Montparnasse cemetery, sampling ice cream in Le Marais—they subtly draw readers into a world of elegance and charm that only thinly veils the dangers lurking beneath. The clues are plentiful, and readers who enjoy wild rides through a slew of red herrings, as opposed to more methodical mysteries, will be entertained.
Takeaway: Wild mystery ride through Parisian streets, with loads of amateur sleuthing.
Comparable Titles: Emilia Bernhard’s The Books of the Dead, Jean-Pierre Alaux and Noël Balen’s Treachery in Bordeaux.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: A
For Tarot readers old and new, this is a smart, demystifying guide worth refering to often. In Latin, “arcana” means secrets, Grant advises. In Tarot terminology, it refers to two categories: Major Arcana (22 cards representing life’s spiritual lessons) and Minor Arcana (56 cards symbolizing everyday life events). Grant dedicates a chapter to each of the 78 cards, explaining in depth the significance. The minor arcana each have a defined area, with cups representing emotions, love, relationships, and creativity; pentacles represent material possessions or career-oriented matters; while swords, which symbolize action or conflict, often relate to mental states or communication issues. Grant also provides actionable steps, advanced steps for some of the cards, and the meanings of upright and reversed cards.
While some readers may scoff and dismiss Tarot as a new-age weird practice, psychologists praise the Tarot cards as tools for metaphorical thinking during therapy sessions. Grant also notes that the American Psychological Association shows tarot readers are more intuitive and empathetic than nonreaders, a tendency exemplified by the author’s warm tour through the decks and their resonance in the lives of practitioners. The perfect guide for beginners learning Tarot, Grant’s empathetic teaching provides a comprehensive view of the craft.
Takeaway: Comprehensive guide for readers seeking to learn the nuances of Tarot today.
Comparable Titles: Liz Dean’s The Tarot Companion, Emmi Fredericks’s The Smart Girl's Guide to Tarot.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Highlighting the importance of helping others and providing educational information about ocean life, Vozzo creates an imaginative story featuring a resourceful plumber and lively characters that young readers will enjoy. Poseidon's friendly nature and his way with a wrench and plunger become legendary, suggesting to young readers that talent and learned, practical skills can take you where you want to go. Readers familiar with the Greek god of the sea will enjoy seeing the aptly named protagonist of this story flourish in his snorkel gear amid Nina Mkhoiani’s vibrant illustrations that showcase sea creatures, coral reefs, and other charming detail.
The art and layout, mostly in two-page panoramic spreads, is imaginative, with shell homes, bioluminescent sea sponges, a host of wide-eyed fish and crustaceans, and a faint, bubbly digital gloss suggesting the strangeness of life underwater. Even the eels look friendly, and Poseidon’s face communicates warmth even through his dive mask. The low stakes of the tale may diminish some readers’ interest, especially as Poseidon’s actual plumbing action is more suggested by the text than compelling dramatization, with the illustrations emphasizing the milieu over any narrative drama. The result is an inviting hang-out story that offers fun under-the-sea vibes and friendship.
Takeaway: Sweet and chill undersea adventure of Poseidon the plumber, unclogging the depths.
Comparable Titles: Meeg Pincus's Ocean Soup, Kelly DiPucchio's Oona.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Parent packs plenty of characterization in his brief tales. Each delves into the prickly resentments and bubbling rages that simmer beneath the surface, only to be exacerbated by supernatural fiends. The somber and gut wrenching tale celebrating Dia De Los Muertos follows a tormented veteran reliving the carnage he witnessed by the Taliban in Afghanistan. He uses his monstrous powers, borne of grief and guilt, as payback against the evil doers of today. Epitomizing how revenge is sweet, “Black” features a cheating husband with a bad heart planning to repair his marriage, until his wife invites him on a haunted hay ride with ulterior motives.
In the witty “Last Halloween,” 13-year-old Jessica’s best friend thinks they’re too old for trick or treating, but Jessica’s tattered spider costume comes in handy when an interdimensional portal unleashes hellish monsters. Terrifying takes on the traditional haunted house theme, blood suckers, psychopaths, ghouls needing replacement parts, and hellish carnival rides provide readers the scares they expect, honed by Parent’s crisp descriptions and unexpected thrills.
Takeaway: Creepy Halloween tales thrill with haunted houses and monsters in the shadows.
Comparable Titles: Ronald Kelly’s The Halloween Store, J. Tonzelli’s The End of Summer.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Wischowski’s atmospheric writing playfully explores huddled-around-the-campfire storytelling, with an emphasis on the possibilities of the oral tradition—the standout “The Tale of Black Hands” opens with a consideration of how the teller always refreshes the tale, no matter how familiar. Such intimate narration—including clever uses of direct address and unreliable storytellers–conjures the feeling that the reader is being let in on a secret. Standout stories include “The Ghost of John,” where a corpse discovers, rather gruesomely, that he’s not all there. “Grandson” details a scam attempt with devastating consequences; “The Gashadokuro” follows a family stalked by giant skeletons from Japanese folklore; and “Circus Fortune” describes a young boy’s chance encounter with a hypnotist at a county fair.
The only thing that detracts somewhat from an otherwise excellent collection is an essay at the end of the book about “ghost science.” The author posits some scientific theories about ghosts, with a marked tonal shift from the rest of the collection. Although designated a middle-grade YA collection, it holds great appeal for seasoned horror fans. With much original flair but also nods to other nostalgic spook-out hits like Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, this earns its place on the discerning horror reader’s bookshelf.
Takeaway: This spooky collection is full of scares for all ages.
Comparable Titles: Anastasia Garcia and Teo Skaffa’s Ghostly, Ghastly Tales, Christian McKay Heidicker’s Scary Stories for Young Foxes.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
With Tom out of the picture, Grandy weaves a surprising thriller that lives up to its title, with a complex cast of perspective characters, each thoroughly developed and compelling. The storytelling is brisk but attentive to contemporary cultural divides—Miriam’s father, James, considers Canadians too casual and muses there’s “no room in his world for a namby-pamby liberal like Tom.” While the prose tends toward the flatly declarative, the cleverly plotted mystery will keep fans of corporate and personal skullduggery hooked until the dramatic, action-packed finale. Grandy blends traditional mystery elements—Liu peruses a wall of suspects and considers each’s motives—with 21st century tricks. Grandy also convincingly brings life to Toronto’s tech scene and, more crucially, how the minds of its leaders work, clearly reflecting the author's own experience in the industry.
The story also delves into themes of COVID-19 and American politics, which might resonate deeply with some readers while feeling divisive to others, depending on personal perspectives. Overall, it's a thrilling and well-crafted read that will captivate fans of tech-driven mysteries.
Takeaway: Smart mystery of a tech CEO, tangled schemes, and many suspects.
Comparable Titles: Christopher Reich’s The First Billion, Chandler Baker’s Whisper Network.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Blaine captures Dorian’s disgust at the economics of the art world in compelling rants. “It’s high time we hold those presently living and responsible for our misery and enslavement to the museum system accountable or let them make their own sacrifice in blood,” Dorian declares. Amid lengthy, sometimes electric discussions of art, money, and divinity, Amadeo falls in love with an Afghani woman in Dorian’s orbit—a woman who warns him she’s under constant surveillance by forces from back home who will kill if she is too close to man—and is tasked by his hilariously profane American handler with gathering DNA from the Paris circle whose friendship gives him life.
There’s much more happening in this thoughtful-but-overstuffed novel, including a “Doomsday painting,” rumors of an antichrist figure, and the rise of a murderous Dorian cult destroying history’s great artworks. Sharp, heady dialogue and themes of creation/destruction, art/finance, and revolution/terrorism all fascinate, but the twisty, time-vaulting structure is frustrating and a challenging to keep up with, and the prose’s density tends to squash momentum and clarity. Still, there’s much promise here.
Takeaway: Hugely ambitious philosophical thriller of art, finance, and revolution.
Comparable Titles: Peter Weiss’s The Aesthetics of the Resistance, Rachel Kushner’s The Flamethrowers.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B-
Marketing copy: B
Most of Age of Decay, however, is penned as straight-ahead forecast of how, starting around 2020, the era of continual growth gave way to a new age of “continuous contraction and decline.” With case studies of nations like Japan and Italy, Ismail shows the work behind his dire warnings of declining living standards, a shrinking tax base, continual shortages, and even a decline in institutional memory at businesses. Ismail’ persuasively demonstrates that it is likely that many nations will hit a “tipping point where they have too few essential workers to keep their societies functioning optimally.” Also convincing: his insistence that tech won’t solve all problems: “How do you automate nursing care for the aged,” he asks, “which requires compassion and interpersonal engagement?” Less persuasive is the argument that young workers’ tendency to change jobs suggests a lack of ambition in workers themselves.
Setting Age of Decay apart from some works about declining birth rates is Ismail’s embrace of immigration as a source of both workers and consumers, especially from Africa, whose “growing prominence and influence … on the future world stage cannot be overstated.” He warns that “populist political sentiment against immigration” in the U.S. could cause the nation “to lose its current advantage in worker-aged population.”
Takeaway: Alarming forecast of the impact of declining birth rates on economies and societies.
Comparable Titles: Darrell Bricker and John Ibbitson’s Empty Planet, Dustin Whitney’s Demographic Deception.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
Duff's writing is intimate and reverent as she examines Gretchen's secret truths—and her own. "Perhaps by reading Gretchen’s journals and delving into the past, I would find what I longed for,” Duff proclaims, and, once she decides to embark on the emotionally taxing journey of reading Gretchen's left-behind words, that wish comes true. She reflects on unfathomable, violent trauma from her childhood and its connection to her relationship with her husband, adult children, and her parents, linking her need for self-discovery and healing to the past’s shrouded secrets, while pressing into her unwavering faith to finally make peace and settle into a place she can truly call home.
"Gretchen scared me because her honesty exposed my dishonesty," Duff writes, and the memoir brims with her realizations that moving forward often hinges on digging into the past. Her efforts, though painful, are rewarded, as she comes to terms with the darkness and emerges stronger on the other side. These powerful parallel stories are captivating—and at times emotionally devastating—as Duff sludges through understanding, acceptance, and letting go. “Asking questions—doubting if you will—is part of the mysterious process of bringing truth to light,” she observes—powerful parting words that will linger in readers’ minds.
Takeaway: Emotional memoir examining mental illness, faith, and repressed family secrets.
Comparable Titles: Amanda Stern's Little Panic, Meg Kissinger's While You Were Out.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Gilbert’s prose deftly captures the complexities of the family’s fraught relationships, forging relatable friction that brings their underlying dynamics into the spotlight. Grace, forced to cope not just with a terminally ill husband but also with regret at having allowed herself to live a limited life, treads the dangerous waters of rebellion against what she views as her husband’s unreasonable decisions, while each son’s perspective paints a different side of a domineering, rigid father, insistent that his children learn to manage their own lives, even as he refuses to be sent to “a house of the dying” when his health becomes too challenging to manage at home.
Reunion by the Lake favors the slow burn of family discord over more defined climactic scenes, and readers may wonder at the childhood incidents that led to the family’s fractured relationships as adults. Still, their frayed bonds are engrossing, marked by complex mindscapes and intricate layers of mistrust, bitterness, and self-pity that lend the narrative a tremulous feel. Though eruption feels just around the corner in nearly every scene, Gilbert chooses to end the story on a more positive note, leaving readers with a hopeful antidote in contrast to the novel’s smoldering beginnings.
Takeaway: Family dysfunction takes center stage when a dying father discloses his will.
Comparable Titles: Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney’s The Nest, Jami Attenberg’s The Middlesteins.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
With historical astuteness, Sandvig portrays the Dakota revolt as a last stand against years of disenfranchisement and displacement. Readers witness the gut-wrenching aftermath of the conflict—burned settlements and innocent settlers, hanged men, and the gruesome internment of women and children at Fort Snelling. Emilie’s journey—heavy-heartedly leaving her mother to search for her missing father, despite the looming threat of Dakota warriors hunting mixed-bloods, and discovering long-buried family secrets along the way—teems with courage, as she continues to forge her identity and champion justice with an indomitable spirit, amid the violence and grief of losing her loved ones, freedom, and home.
Though certain subplots, such as Paltrey's opportunistic schemes, feel underdeveloped, they underscore the moral ambiguities of war and the selfish exploitation it breeds. More than a story of territorial dispute, this novel delves into the threat of cultural erasure and how injustice fuels hatred. Emilie’s moral dilemma—“But who were the wicked?... Whites who took our land in the first place? Or Dakota warriors who slaughtered innocent settlers and stole our peace?”—resonates deeply, yet Sandvig balances this with an underlying message of cultural preservation, survival, forgiveness, and hope.
Takeaway: Profound tribute to devastating history of the Dakota community.
Comparable Titles: Linda Hogan’s Mean Spirit, Louise Erdrich’s Love Medicine.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Wagner-Wright paints a vivid picture of late 18th century America, offering rich details of daily life and society amid the story’s broader themes of commerce, competition, and personal ambition. Her adept use of technical maritime language highlights the novel’s many voyages, allowing readers an inside seat to the coastal runs and whipping storms that characterized a merchant’s life in the 1700s, and detailed descriptions of trade routes, major ports, and the goods exchanged provide a compelling backdrop. Likewise, Wagner-Wright’s inclusion of historical embargoes—and their impact on maritime families—seamlessly weaves into the story, threading layers of complexity into the plot.
Each chapter delves into the lives of its ensemble cast, revealing the individual struggles of characters like Nathaniel West and Lizzie Rowell, as they navigate the unpredictable, dangerous, but strangely rewarding life of 18th century Salem, strikingly portrayed in one captain’s words after a devastating storm blows his ship miles off course: “If I fail, I’m no worse off than I am now, but if I succeed, I’ll prove myself.” The book’s pacing may not be relentless, but Wagner-Wright’s careful adherence to historical events and the personal dramas behind them makes it a worthy read.
Takeaway: In-depth study of Salem’s maritime families in the late 18th century.
Comparable Titles: Anya Seton’s The Winthrop Woman, Paul C.R. Monk’s Call of Freedom.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
The moon’s dystopian conflicts, like the culture, biotech, and everyday challenges of lunar life, extrapolate from contemporary concerns in resonant ways. As Tonic's music becomes associated with violence, the manipulative chairman of the corporation Nox exploits her growing debt, coercing her into increasingly dangerous and illegal activities. Desperate Tonic delves into the Dive, where she crosses paths with Kaet, a graffiti artist, and his ex, Blau, a hacker, as they uncover dark secrets about Nox. Revealing the streets of the Dive, concert venues, underground networks, and more, the narrative paints a haunting picture of a society that has lost touch with its humanity—a humanity that Adams-Dufresne centers, even as the mystery grows tense.
Color of a Mirror excels in world-building and delving into the psychological complexities of its fascinating characters. The plot occasionally takes a backseat to atmosphere and character, as sensory-rich prose vividly brings to life the sights, sounds, and emotions experienced through Tonic’s visor. Lovers of thoughtful SF and cyberpunk will relish this compelling tale that grapples with themes of identity, corporate greed, and the relentless struggle for personal autonomy.
Takeaway: Striking and humane SF mystery on the moon in the late 21st century.
Comparable Titles: Charlie Jane Anders’s The City in the Middle of the Night, David Pedreira’s Gunpowder Moon.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A